


When I Am Laid In Earth

by Kian



Series: Estranged By The Cosmos [4]
Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Spoilers, post-Malachor V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-13
Updated: 2007-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kian/pseuds/Kian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fight on Malachor V, The Exile is left with a new mission and some difficult realities to face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Am Laid In Earth

Mieli wasn’t sure quite what to think.

Her first instinct was to find Revan, her onetime friend, and get some of those answers nobody else seemed to be inclined to give since it had been increasingly obvious throughout her journey that, while Kreia may have been pulling the strings aboard the ship – and GOTO as well, for that matter – _Revan_ was even further up the ladder, dancing the whole galaxy to her tune. And, not unlike in the past, Revan seemed to put far too much trust in Mieli’s ability to understand the steps – far more than Mieli herself would have allowed.

She wasn’t sure just _how_ Revan had gotten Kreia and her fellow Sith on a string – and Mieli was fairly certain that only Kreia had possessed an inkling of the other woman’s plans – but as her journey had worn on and wended about the galaxy in a complex pattern of advances and detours, Mieli could almost feel Revan’s scrupulous maneuverings crawling through her as they played out within the Force, the precisely timed sequence of events curling deep in the places where Mieli had only felt a void for the better part of a decade.

She had felt ill at ease walking the faces of the planets on which they had landed, but she had also found that she couldn’t stay on the ship for long. On the _Ebon Hawk_ more than any other place, Mieli could feel the warm breath of Revan’s presence on the nape of her neck, taste the expectancy in the back of her throat and sense the gentle, but persistent tug of memory and destiny from beyond any place she had ever known or traveled.

And now, standing in the craggy gut of the decaying remains of Malachor V, Mieli didn’t know how to avoid her senses any longer.

Kreia was dead. The broken corpse of her sometimes Master lay not ten feet from her, downed by Mieli’s own hand. Funny that. The last time Mieli – or anyone else, for that matter – had assumed the old Sith woman deceased, Kreia had managed to sit up and walk about Peragus readily enough, as if cued. Now, Force returned to her, Mieli knew what simple miners could not have known; Kreia was really and truly dead, a lifeless husk that no longer served a purpose.

Mieli smiled grimly at her unkind evaluation of the situation as it presented itself; Kreia would have been so proud.

She supposed she could have been more generous to the memory of her mentor of the past few months, but Mieli couldn’t find the energy to search her feelings for a warm thought. She was cold and tired and lonely, much as she had been for the past eight years, though now she had the presence of the Force as some small measure of comfort against her hauntingly bleak future prospects.

Her crew, what was left of it, would have to be abandoned to their individual fates. She did not take Kreia’s word for it; she had known for several months now that the ties that bound them all together were unraveling in the face of the coming resurgence of open war between Jedi and Sith.

She had made them all Jedi, fashioning stronger warriors out of those who were already battle hardened, not untested youth like most Knights fresh out of the academies. Her crew – for she shuddered at the thought that they could be thought of as her padawans – were capable of much good in the galaxy, had the strength and wherewithal to support and assist the new Jedi Council when it was formed from the charred rubble of Dantooine and the silent pools of Coruscant.

And the Jedi would indeed regroup. Mieli could feel the distant stirrings on other planets throughout the galaxy of Knights and Masters who had somehow known to lay low, to bide their time until they were able to move freely again. That time was almost at hand.

But for her, there was only one path to walk. It was not for her to rekindle the spark of the Jedi or to sit in the long abandoned Council chambers and hand down judgment. Her path would lead her into the darkness. And there, she would find Revan, in whatever manner she was to be found.

“She dead?” came a soft, almost reverent voice from behind her.

“Yes. Kreia is dead,” Mieli said, allowing the tendrils of exhaustion to creep into her voice.

“And good riddance,” said the other voice, equally weary and pained, without the energy to put any force behind that rude dismissal.

Mira came abreast of Mieli, limping slightly and holding her side. Another moment passed in silence before Mira spoke again, still looking out over the strange chamber and its unfortunate master.

“The Hawk took some damage in the crash, but Atton thinks he can still get it airborne. That is of course, if we get out of here soon. The whole place seems to be caving in on itself and we’re running out of navigable flight paths.”

Mieli grunted in agreement, but made no move to leave. Mira shifted her weight, hissing sharply at the pressure being placed on her bad leg, but straightened all the same.

“So, are we carrying her back?”

Mieli sighed and ran a hand through the limp, tangled hair that was falling in her eyes.

“No.”

“No?”

“She brought us here; she stays here.”

“Fair enough,” Mira grunted as she let herself slump a little, once again leaning noticeably on her good leg.

“What happened to you?” Mieli asked absently, staring blankly ahead, lost in thought.

“Hanharr. Seems some old lady saved his life back on Nar Shadaa and set him loose exclusively to hunt me.”

The Exiled Jedi pondered this news for a moment, but Mieli found that nothing was shocking anymore, not even seemingly resurrected Wookies and well planned treachery on the part of the woman who had guided her in her return to the Force.

“Did you kill him?” Mieli finally asked, dropping her head back to look at the crimson streaked sky overhead.

“Almost. Maybe I should have. I just…didn’t want to, you know?”

Mieli made a sound of agreement, a gusty, throaty thing that was nearly a groan. Her eyes fell closed and blocked out the unsettling landscape, but every other sense was hyperaware of the climate, of the shadow and desolation that characterized the environment. The pained shrieks of voices long since stilled whispered in dust and ash that clumped thickly on the lifeless ground, a thin residue which coated her robes, pulled at the soles of her boots and seemed to choke the air that she breathed, coating her lungs in the acidic tar of spent terror. She could feel herself dying with every inhalation, could feel the bubble of a muted scream upon exhaling. Madness pulled at her and Mieli opened her eyes once more.

“I know.”

Mira eyed her warily, but Mieli ignored the scrutiny and straightened.

“Let’s get back to the Hawk. We’ve spent enough time dwelling on ghosts.”

She turned and started back the way she had come. After a moment, she heard Mira fall into step behind her, shuffling and hopping quietly to accommodate her injuries.  


End file.
